Back to New York, New York tomorrow for the last game of this season-- Marlins at Mets. I can empathize with Mets fans, with the Bucs needing to go 8-5 in the last 13 games of the season to eke out a winning record and avoid a 20th losing season.
(On a side note, I've been feeling old lately with my birthday and all, but it really drives home the point when I think that the last time the Pirates had a winning season, I was in eighth grade.)
Our games in Baltimore, DC, and Philadelphia all featured boy scouts. Which was just fantastic, because Nick was an Eagle Scout, so there's nothing like being surrounded at baseball games by kids my brother would have judged mercilessly on behavior, merit badges (or lack thereof), OA regalia (or lack thereof), and so on. Trust me, I know-- he did that every time we saw a boy scout troop, including at the last game we attended together. And then, at the Yankees game-- without a doubt the hardest, most emotional game bar the Pirates/ 30th birthday-- there weren't boy scouts, but there were blood cancer awareness hats and swabbing to join the bone marrow donor registry. Which was just awesome, because we never had enough time to even try a bone marrow transplant with Nick.
Just when it looked like I was going to dodge a weird emotional coincidence, it hits me again. I checked the Mets schedule. I don't see boy scouts. I don't see any kind of disease awareness. But, great-- it's a Bark in the Park fundraiser for an animal shelter and there's a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle wristband giveaway. I swear I'm not making the latter up-- and it certainly wasn't there when I bought the tickets-- but I should note that like virtually all kids of that age my brother freaking loved TMNT. To the point where mom actually bought the terrible cereal so that Nick could get the promotional cereal bowls.
Yup. Looks like the good old family luck is doing its thing.